Chapter 4

Carly was waiting for Tom when he came out of the bathroom, where he had washed his face.

"Can I talk to you now?" she asked.

He stood and looked at her.

"Yeah ... I guess so."

"Where?"

"Not in front of your mother."

"I agree." She looked toward the kitchen. "At least for now."

"I don't know if I can do this, Carly," he said.

"Sure you can," she responded. "If I can, you can."

"And you really can?"

She folded her arms under her teenaged breasts. Not on purpose, but it framed her breasts anyway.

"Believe me, Daddy, after what happened today ... I can do anything."

His bark of laughter was built of many things. It was part panic, part admiration, and part understanding. He had done unbelievable things in the past, and afterwards had known what it felt like to have supreme faith in one's own ability to deal with difficult situations. Being reminded of that now took the panic away. He hadn't forced her. She had done what she did voluntarily. He didn't know, yet, how to feel about that. But he could talk about it.

"Sit on the porch swing?" he asked.

"Perfect," she said.

The house they were currently living in was eighty years old. It was owned by a woman who had inherited it from her parents, but lived in a newer place. So she just rented it out, mostly to soldiers. She gave them a break on the rent, especially if they helped keep the place up. Tom had those skills, and liked the atmosphere of the old house. It had a covered porch too, a big one, with a porch swing hanging from the ceiling. Those were few and far between these days.

Once they settled on the swing, Tom gave it a kick and started them moving.

"You start," he said.

"Can I ask a question first?"

"Sure."

"Mom says she thinks you've had thoughts about me lately ... sexy thoughts. Is that true?"

He contemplated that for a few seconds.

"The most important thing in all of this to me is that you are comfortable, and not scared, and don't want to find a new father," he said.

"You didn't answer the question, Daddy," she responded.

"I just want to make sure that the answer doesn't scare you," he said.

"I'm not scared of you. I couldn't be scared of you. I didn't do what I did today because you told me to do it."

"Then yes. When you hit puberty, you lost the ganglyness and got curvy and pretty and it was impossible not to notice that," he said.

"Did you want to do things?"

"To you?"

She nodded.

"Not really. It wasn't like that. It was more that I thought it would be nice if I was a fourteen year old kid who lived next door, and could come over and be around you like that."

"Really? You wanted to be my boyfriend?"

"Something like that. But you have to understand that I'm not supposed to feel like that, so I tried not to think about it."

"Yeah," said Carly. "I knew today that I was doing wrong things. But I didn't care. It was too ... I don't' know ... interesting? Exciting?"

"I couldn't believe you... " He blushed. " ... you know," he finally finished.

"Jerked you off?" she asked...

He laughed that barking, hysterical laugh again.

"That wasn't what I was thinking about. And now that I do, it doesn't seem so bad ... compared to the..."

"Blow job?" she finished for him.

"Where did you come from?" he asked in awe. "Where did my baby girl go?"

"I guess I grew up," she said. "Kind of. I don't feel grown up. But Mom says I did grown up things."

"We pretty much have to agree about that," he sighed.

"Do you really think Mommy would let us do it again?"

"What?" He looked shocked. "We can't do that again!"

"Oh," she said. Anybody could have heard the dejection in her voice.

"Wait!" he said. "Are you saying you want to do it again?"

This telling the truth thing was very liberating when done under the right circumstances, and with the right people. Carly went for it.

"Well yeah, actually. It was fun, except it happened so fast it's hard to remember. I would like to try it again. Maybe slower?"

"Oh man!" he moaned. "Oh man, oh man, oh man!"

"Does that mean you want to do it again too, Daddy?" She looked at him with her dark eyes. They watched his eyes drop to her crop top again, and then bounce back up to her face. She pulled a page from her mother's book. "Tell the truth ... please?"

His foot dragged, and the swing stopped.

"Do you really want to do that again? I mean really, for true, for sure?"

"If you do ... yes," she said. "And if Mom says it's okay," she added.

"Wow," he sighed. He blinked. "Do you think she would?!"

"Say okay?"

"Yes." He seemed to hold his breath.

"Remember? She said she'd support us no matter what we decided."

"That's just insane!" he blurted.

She put her hand on his thigh and he froze. He looked down at it, and then, when she didn't move it, at her face.

"Do you want to do it again?" she asked.

He swallowed. Then he swallowed again. He still couldn't speak.

So he nodded yes.

The biscuits and gravy were ready. She had covered the biscuits with a towel and the gravy was turned to warm, with the lid on the pan. She couldn't just call them to supper. She had to wait until they were finished talking. She thought about eating, but then decided she wasn't hungry. Finally, she had time to process this herself. She'd been putting that off, but maybe now was the time.

She sat and thought back to her youth, and her times with Uncle Bob. There wasn't a sad memory there. Not once had she felt like what they did was wrong, no matter what others might say. Her love for him was real, and what he ended up giving her was much more than his sperm. She was even aware that it might have started out as something less honorable - for him - but what they ended up with was precious and sweet.

She knew that was rare for any woman to find, much less twice in her life. And she knew Tom loved her to the depths of his soul. It was easy for her to understand how he could love both her and their daughter, because she loved both him and her daughter. Both of them owned her heart. It was illogical, but true. She gave all her love to him, only to find more love left to give her daughter. And she knew he could do the exact same thing.

Then there was how she felt about Uncle Bob. How she still felt about Uncle Bob. She appreciated that he had taken that hands-off position when she married Tom. It would have been complicated to try to juggle both men. And it let her give all her attention to Tom. But that didn't mean the love she felt for her first lover faded away. Even now, when she got a hug from him, and he whispered in her ear how luscious she looked, Uncle Bob got her going, just like in the old days.

So it was actually almost easy for her to justify letting her daughter have the same positive experiences that she'd had as a girl.

But Tom wasn't Uncle Bob. Could he handle it?

It had just occurred to her that she might be able to help them, when Carly came back into the kitchen.

The look on her face was of expectation ... rather than dread.

Beth had forced herself to sit and listen, as Carly described what had been said on the porch. Tom was still out there. He said he was thinking. The urge to ask questions and give advice had been pushing at Beth, but she fought that down and only listened. She could only offer help if it was asked for. That was her own decision.

"It sounds like the two of you came to an agreement, then," she finally said.

"Yes ... but what do I do now?" asked Carly.

"What do you want to do?" Beth wanted to jump up and issue orders, but she didn't.

"I think I want to do the same thing we did there ... except that this time he'd know it was me ... and would talk to me instead of..." She trailed off.

"Instead of me," said her mother.

"Yes. But won't that hurt your feelings?"

"It's complicated," admitted Beth. "All I can tell you is that I want the best for both you and your father. And me too, of course. And I honestly think this can work so that we are all happy with how things turn out. How would you feel if I was there to, shall we say, give you advice?"

"That would be weird," said Carly.

Beth frowned.

"But also interesting," Carly added. "I wonder what Daddy would think of that?"

"Shall we go ask him?" Again, Beth held her breath. This was a pivotal point. If they went together, it set a whole different tone than if she was left out of their plans. She could live with being left out, but she felt like things would go much better if she wasn't.

"Yes!" said Carly, excited now.

It warmed Beth's heart that Carly reached for her hand, and Carly was reassured when her mother squeezed it and held on as they went out onto the porch. Tom was swinging. He stared at the two of them, and held up a finger to prevent either of them from speaking.

"Can I say something here?" he asked.

"Of course," said Beth.

"I have always thought of you as my two girls. Ever since we became three, you have been my girls. But what we're talking about now is a whole different kind of way of seeing you as ... my girls. And this can never be undone, once we do it."

Carly looked at her mother, who looked back and squeezed her hand one more time. Carly looked at her father.

"We know that, Daddy."

It was quiet for a while. finally he spoke again.

"You came to tell me something?"

Beth spoke. "She'd like to give you another massage. I told her she could use my portable table. We thought it might be helpful if I ... supervised ... since she doesn't have a lot of experience yet."